


Make You Weak

by Pixeled



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drug Use, Fighting, M/M, Violence, bathroom sink sex, hypers, prolonged erections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 10:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: The glass windows, so open to the city, made the lights twinkle and seem almost beautiful. If Sephiroth was the austere city with its mechanical method, then he was the country side with its rolling hills and apple trees, Minerva’s passion and grace.





	Make You Weak

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Strange Love by Halsey, and I was enabled to write it by my lovely people over at the Loveless Discord. Bless their hearts.

The harsh light of the bathroom made Genesis’s eyes look electric blue. He rolled his sleeve up and laughed.

“Tie the tourniquet like I told you, ribbon up,” Genesis told him, eyes sparkling. He could have done it himself—had in the past, but corrupting Sephiroth felt too good.

“How do you even know how to do this?” Sephiroth asked incredulously.

“Stimulants were kind of my thing back in the day,” he said. Sephiroth stared at the twin hypodermic needles, still amazed the science department had left this up to them. He slowly tied the elastic band around Genesis’s forearm, staring at his fist. The vein in the crook of his forearm bulged, having been already visible. A child could find it. Genesis picked up both needles and handed Sephiroth one, clinking its small vial against the one in Sephiroth’s hand in a sick toast. Sephiroth couldn’t help the small smile from tugging at his lips. He’d been used to the drugs Hojo gave him, surprised they affected him every time. Surely this would be no different. Instead of slowing down, the hyper would speed things up. So he’d be a little hyper for a few hours? Surely he could handle it.

He tilted the needle bevel up like Genesis had showed him and slowly slid it into his vein, watching his face as the needle slid home and he pressed the plunger, the liquid filling him. The effect was immediate. Genesis closed his eyes and breathed out deeply, his heart beating so loud Sephiroth could see the vein in his throat pulse.

“Wow,” Genesis said. “I feel like I can take on a whole army.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Sephiroth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Your turn!” Genesis said, a bit too enthusiastically. Sephiroth unbuttoned his clean pressed white shirt and rolled it up to his forearm, choosing his dominant left hand. The antecubital vein stared up at him. Genesis grabbed his arm and tied the same tourniquet around his forearm, pulling it so tight it was slightly uncomfortable. He took the needle in his hand and gently stabbed it into Sephiroth’s arm, pushing the plunger immediately. Sephiroth felt like his blood was rushing in his ears immediately, drowning everything out. Genesis was saying something, but he couldn’t hear. And he started laughing. Genesis looked alarmed.

“I feel like my heart is beating in my head,” he said, looking at his hands as they spread out before him.

“We should spar,” Genesis said excitedly. “I imagine the science department would _love_ it.”

“I suppose that would test the efficacy,” Sephiroth said, standing up. “However, we don’t have our weapons.”

“Oh, I’d love to best you in hand to hand combat,” Genesis smiled cruelly.

“You wish,” Sephiroth said, chuckling darkly, lifting his head and squaring his shoulders as he rolled up the crisp white of his dress shirt. So much for ironing it this morning. And blow drying his hair so that it sat perfect over his shoulders. Genesis was always challenging him to put his hair out of place, reveled in it even. He pressed his hands over the stark lines of his trousers.

They’d never fought in his apartment before. Genesis picked up the glass coffee table and set it aside. Sephiroth’s apartment was wholly inappropriate for sparring. So much spotless glass. Genesis briefly wondered how he kept it so immaculate. The glass windows, so open to the city, made the lights twinkle and seem almost beautiful. If Sephiroth was the austere city with its mechanical method, then he was the country side with its rolling hills and apple trees, Minerva’s passion and grace.

Sephiroth stood still, watching Genesis as he got into a fighting posture. Every muscle screamed in Genesis’s body to go go go and he lunged at Sephiroth, going for his arm, to twist it back against his shoulder blades, but Sephiroth was like an impenetrable force, merely evading him. Instead, he grabbed Genesis’s arm and pulled it back, making the redhead hiss. He jumped, pulling his arm free.

They grappled like this for a while, Genesis pressing close, trying to get into his defenses. It seemed a useless task, but he did it again and again anyway. His body felt so hyper focused, so alive. Eventually Genesis went for leg sweeps. He was tireless, unrelenting, the hyper driving him. But still, Sephiroth was an immovable monolith. He growled his frustration and Sephiroth laughed. That smug bastard, Genesis thought.

And then he saw an opening, taking it with everything in him. The coffee table shattered, glass shards twinkling in the low light. It was in Sephiroth’s hair, shining, and he shook his head, hair streaming. Genesis pushed forward, leaning up over Sephiroth’s frame, and laughed above him.

“You broke my coffee table,” Sephiroth said, not amused.

“Oh shut up about your stupid coffee table,” Genesis said, kissing him to do just. It felt amazing, the feel of his lips electric, the pleasure coursing through him like fire. So he kissed him again, and he kissed back. They rolled on the floor, Genesis ripping Sephiroth’s precious shirt. Somehow Sephiroth didn’t seem to mind. And Genesis felt triumphant, capturing his face in his hands and staring into his wide eyes, the blacks of them like pin pricks. It was always like this, them wrestling for control. But the hypers made them feel so much more, their blood singing in their veins.

“What if we do more?” Genesis asked conspiratorially, dragging two more vials from his pants. It was a wonder that they didn’t break.

And then they were in the bathroom, hair wild, glass pieces still sparkling in Sephiroth’s hair, and they were shooting up again. Sephiroth pulled Genesis up and over the sink when he felt the hyper hit his blood stream and dragged Genesis’s pants down off his hips and threw them somewhere behind him as he pushed his sweater up over his chest. Genesis shed it, throwing it vaguely in the direction his pants went. Genesis took Sephiroth’s hand—his sword hand—and looked at him with his glazed eyes as he took his fingers into his mouth, sucking up to his knuckles. Sephiroth groaned, feeling the pleasure arch into his crotch. Genesis was so effortlessly sexy—he exuded sex. Was it any wonder he’d come back to him over and over? The way his hair carelessly framed his face like it was windswept made his knees weak. And then he took those kiss-swollen shiny lips into his mouth and kissed him breathless as he opened his pants deftly with one hand and extracted his hard cock.

And then Genesis was sucking his own fingers into his mouth and shoving his own fingers inside himself. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but it made lust coil in Sephiroth’s belly to see Genesis pleasure himself anyway.

“Fill me up with your cock,” Genesis said sweetly, removing his fingers slowly and pumping his cock just as slowly. Sephiroth growled, his need to dominate Genesis making him surge forward and thrust deep into him. Genesis looked good on his sink, his white skin that much whiter under the harsh light. The tourniquet fell to the floor with the empty vials and they broke apart, but Sephiroth didn’t care. All he cared about was claiming Genesis, whose fingers grasped his hips so hard they would bruise. He moved against him, fucking himself on his cock, hips pumping so fast they wouldn’t last long.

Sephiroth shouted his name out as he came, buried in Genesis, grasping his hair hard.

Genesis came messily against his stomach. They realized they were both still hard and began fucking again. Genesis was laughing, head tipped back.

“You’re going to _kill_ me,” Genesis panted out. “But it would be a welcome death.”

Sephiroth saw stars when he came a second time, his body so hyped up that it refused to come down. When he pulled out, his come came trickling out of Genesis’s stretched hole and he growled, turned on all over again. He pulled Genesis up and carried him into the bedroom and they fucked for the third time that night against the windows. Genesis’s breath fogged up the glass and his hands left streaks. Sephiroth couldn’t stop himself from pulling Genesis’s hair back, staring at the perfect column of his throat. When he came, it was because Genesis was bucking his hips back against his cock with needy abandon.

He collapsed on the bed, rolling onto his back and just panting up at the ceiling. His hair stuck to his lips. So Genesis had messed his hair up after all—messed up his life. Genesis collapsed next to him and just breathed for long moments.

“Wow, that was intense,” Genesis smiled. He got up and went to his pants, extracting a carton of cigarettes and his zippo, plopping back onto the bed unceremoniously, lighting up. “Want one?” he asked Sephiroth.

“You know I think that’s a dirty habit,” Sephiroth huffed, covering his face with his arm.

“So is fucking me, but I don’t hear you complain about that,” Genesis laughed, taking a long drag and expelling the cloud up into the air.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Sephiroth said calmly.

“It’s always that way with you,” Genesis shrugged. “Thinking this is a mistake. Get a new line, Sephiroth. I bet the science department would _love_ to know how we used those hypers. How I make you weak, their perfect little experiment shouting my name when he comes.”

Sephiroth lowered his arm and stared at Genesis.

“Don’t worry, I’ll replace your _precious_ coffee table, too,” Genesis said, pulling on his cigarette with those infuriating lips that Sephiroth kept coming back to.

 


End file.
